Chapter 1162:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

Her eyes were cold, with no ripple at all, completely cutting off all possibility of involvement. She was closing a door and locking it, leaving him on the other side in the darkness he had always seemed to prefer.

“Leaving each other alone is best.” Grayson’s voice was cold as ice, still full of pride. He echoed her words, but his held the weight of a final judgment, not a mutual agreement. There were no extra words, nor did he reveal his redemption plan. He couldn’t tell her that his war was, in part, for her, to dismantle the very system that had trapped them both. His pride would not allow it.

“I won’t stop you, and I won’t look for you. But if anything happens to Effie, I’ll make you pay.”

His tone was only a warning, with no softness at all, and he would never reveal his vulnerability or his plans to Isolde. The threat was the only way he knew how to express concern, the only currency of care he had ever learned to spend. It was a twisted, possessive love, and it was all he had to offer.

Isolde’s tone was flat, with no ripple, neither fearing his warning nor giving any extra response. She had lived under the shadow of his implicit threats for years; this one was no different. It was just the last echo in a long, empty hall. “No need for you to worry. Effie will be fine, and so will I.”

She gave no advice, no concern, maintaining a distant attitude throughout, no love, no hatred, and never giving each other any chance to get close. To offer concern would be to open a crack in the wall she had built, and she knew he was an expert at exploiting any weakness.

Grayson said nothing more, only letting out a low snort, no sorrow, no relief, only his inherent pride and coldness, then hung up the phone directly without a single goodbye. The click was sharp, final.

He was never humble, nor nostalgic. Even if he had hidden emotions in his heart, he would never show them to Isolde. He would rather be seen as a monster than as a man who had lost everything.

The call was abruptly ended. Isolde put away her phone expressionlessly, her hand steady. She stood by the window and watched as the dawn sun fully rose, illuminating Manhattan’s skyline with warm light.

She felt no hatred or love for Grayson. The call just now was nothing more than an irrelevant interlude to her, a past that needed to be completely cut off. It was the final, formal severance. A business transaction concluded.

р𝘰р𝗎𝗹а𝗋 𝘴𝗍𝗈𝗋𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝗈𝘯 g𝖺𝗅ոo𝘷𝖾𝗅s.𝖼𝘰𝗆

She did not know Grayson’s plans, nor did she want to. His redemption and struggles had nothing to do with her; she only cared about her own future and Effie’s. He was a character in a book she had just closed. Whatever happened in his story was no longer her concern. Her own story was just beginning.

In the days that followed, everything went according to plan. Isolde packed her luggage quickly, moving through the cavernous apartment with a methodical grace.

.

.

.